Chapter 77 : The Mad Chicken (2)

Chapter 77: The Mad Rooster (2)Early morning.

The Seong-un Inn looked no different than usual.

Han Seong-chun and Seo Yu-gyeom were preparing ingredients, while Jin Seong-un swept, wiped, and readied the inn for business.

Jin Seong-un liked this peace. Thanks to the Yangha Daegu, customers had been flocking in excessively of late, but in the end, good business was always a good thing.

“Jin Sohyeop!”

A cheerful voice suddenly rang out.

At the entrance stood Tang So-yeon, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight as she looked his way.

Her lively demeanor now was almost impossible to associate with the arrogant attitude she had shown when they had first met.

‘It means everyone is changing.’

Jin Seong-un considered it a good change.

Tang So-yeon, smiling as if the world was full of joy; Seo Yu-gyeom, who had become more at ease in the kitchen; Han Seong-chun, who was slowly coming to terms with his son’s death; even Seomun Ak, who was gradually erasing his past self.

Above all, Jin Seong-un himself had changed the most.

Leaving aside the fact that he had learned martial arts, he who had once lived a life of stoic focus on his single lifelong goal, now found himself at times laughing in disbelief, at times enraged, and at times moved by joy.

“Jin Sohyeop, look who came with me.”

As Tang So-yeon spoke, two familiar faces suddenly stepped out from either side of her.

Baek Sang and Baek Seol, both prodigies of the Wudang Sect.

Of course, Jin Seong-un had already sensed them, so he was not surprised. But since they seemed to expect a reaction, he feigned one.

“Oh.”

His attempt at surprise, however, sounded utterly flat to the three of them.

Losing interest quickly, they walked into the inn.

As always, Baek Sang and Baek Seol clasped their fists politely to Jin Seong-un.

“It has been a long time, Daehyeop.”

“Have you been well?”

The two were as respectful as ever.

They had once heard from Hyeon-un of a grand plan—that one day Jin Seong-un might become his disciple.

Judging by Jin Seong-un’s personality, the plan seemed unlikely to succeed… but if their Uncle Master did succeed, Jin Seong-un would become their Uncle Master as well.

Besides, he had once saved their lives from the Food Butcher.

“You are most welcome.”

When Jin Seong-un nodded in acknowledgment, Baek Seol glanced toward the kitchen.

“Sohyeop Seo is inside too, isn’t he?”

“He is preparing ingredients.”

Just then, Seo Yu-gyeom poked his head out of the kitchen and bluntly called out:

“Baek Seol. Kitchen. Now.”

“Y-Yes!”

Baek Seol had once helped with the kitchen work for a while.

She quickly leaned her Taiji Sword against the wall and began assisting with food preparation.

While Jin Seong-un stood dumbfounded, Baek Sang grabbed an apron hanging on the wall and began putting it on.

“I can only help with the inn work this morning. I’m afraid I have something else to attend to this afternoon…”

His tone was that of an employee requesting time off.

“…I never asked you to work here in the first place.”

Jin Seong-un naturally took back the apron.

It wasn’t hard to guess that the two had come to Yichang because of the thief.

Helping out at the inn was hardly their priority.

In truth, even last time, Hyeon-un and Oh Jeong-san had half-forced them into helping.

Taking back the apron, Jin Seong-un then went into the kitchen.

“Sohyeop Seo, Baek Seol Sojeo has other matters to attend to.”

“Oh really? Then let her go.”

Seo Yu-gyeom released her without a shred of reluctance.

With Han Seong-chun, a dependable cook, in the kitchen, he had no reason to cling to extra hands.

“I could still stay for the morning…”

Baek Seol hesitated.

But Jin Seong-un spoke firmly.

“No, you cannot. I heard the thief strikes day and night without rest.”

In fact, the sword scabbard that vanished from the Murim Alliance Leader’s villa had disappeared in broad daylight.

With a regretful sigh, Baek Seol set down her kitchen knife.

She had, after all, occasionally cooked even after Seo Yu-gyeom had taught her some dishes.

Having only trained in cutting people all her life, she found cutting food with a sword surprisingly enjoyable.

Regardless, Jin Seong-un said to Baek Sang and Baek Seol:

“Sit where you like. I will bring you a meal.”

He could not let old friends leave without sharing a meal.

Tang So-yeon, it seemed, had already come with the intent of eating—she had already taken a seat.

Soon, Jin Seong-un served steaming bowls of noodles.

A meat broth for Tang So-yeon, and vegetable broth for the two Daoists.

As the three slurped, exclaiming “As expected of Cook Seo!” over and over, Seomun Ak, arriving late, spotted them and smiled broadly.

“Oh, you’re here.”

Lately, Seomun Ak had been coming in late with Jin Seong-un’s permission, since he had been training nights with the Namgung Clan Head.

“It has been a while.”

“How have you been?”

Baek Sang and Baek Seol greeted him lightly, while Tang So-yeon waved a hand dismissively and continued eating.

Their relationships were clearly different now.

Once, they had thought of each other merely as fellow prodigies of the Orthodox Faction—people they would be politically entangled with for life, obligated to maintain a distant yet polite camaraderie for the sake of their clans and sects.

But that had changed after facing the Food Butcher together.

They were comrades now.

Shared life-and-death experiences forged bonds stronger than any passing time or minor incident.

Seomun Ak no longer tried to prove his manliness before Tang So-yeon.

Baek Sang and Baek Seol, whose parents ran trade in Sichuan, no longer sought Tang So-yeon’s approval.

Tang So-yeon herself had grown humble after facing overwhelming forces, no longer looking down on the others.

Just as everyone was lost in such reflections, Jin Seong-un placed tea cups on the table.

“It seems all of you have changed.”

He said it casually.

It was simply because they looked better than before.

But at once, their faces reddened. They recalled the trouble they had caused on their first day at the Seong-un Inn.

Especially Seomun Ak, who had once punched Jin Seong-un—he coughed awkwardly and slipped away.

While Jin Seong-un blinked in puzzlement, he turned to the Wudang siblings.

“So, you have received your Taiji Swords back.”

Baek Sang’s face lit up with pride.

“We retrieved them the day we left the inn. Since then, we have lived with the resolve to prove our worth every moment.”

“Me too. When I meet you two again, I want to stand as a proper martial artist.”

Faced with their solemn declarations, Jin Seong-un, unsure what to say, simply raised his thumb in approval.

That alone brightened their faces.

Tang So-yeon smiled faintly. She had lived with a similar resolve.

“Then how about we test it? There’s still time before business starts.”

Seo Yu-gyeom came out from the kitchen with a provocative grin. His meaning was clear: stop boasting with words, show it with skill.

Naturally, Baek Sang, Baek Seol, and Tang So-yeon welcomed the suggestion.

Whoosh—!

Tang So-yeon’s dagger carved dozens of arcs through the air.

Seo Yu-gyeom blocked them with his Heaven-Slaying Dagger. In doing so, he had only taken two steps, proof that he still had plenty of room to spare.

Tang So-yeon bit her teeth in frustration.

“I specialize more in poison arts than hidden weapons.”

“Who said otherwise?”

Seo Yu-gyeom chuckled lightly.

That only fueled Tang So-yeon’s frustration, and she slashed her dagger with even greater ferocity.

Against Jin Seong-un, the difference had been too overwhelming for her to even feel competitive.

But against Seo Yu-gyeom, it was different.

‘I must surpass this.’

As the future head of the Tang Clan.

At least in poison arts and hidden weapons, she wanted to be unmatched among her peers.

Before she realized it, Seo Yu-gyeom had become Tang So-yeon’s goal.

While the two competed in hidden weapons, Jin Seong-un faced both Baek Sang and Baek Seol at once.

He deflected the sword strikes coming from left and right in turn, inwardly impressed.

‘They are different.’ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ novelhall.com

The sharp aura contained within their Taiji Swords.

Compared to before, it was twice as keen, yet instead of spilling recklessly, it condensed fully into their sword tips.

This was exactly like the blades of Sa Ryeong-geuk or the Food Butcher he had once faced. The siblings had already reached the brink of becoming true prodigies.

Jin Seong-un maintained precisely half a breath of superiority over their level.

This was the method Martial Gods often used when training with him.

The opponent would constantly chase that almost-touching sensation, pushing themselves to the brink.

Indeed, Baek Sang and Baek Seol were already growing pale. Though they deliberately controlled their breathing, their breaths came rough and uneven.

The two siblings exchanged glances.

Having swung swords side by side their entire lives, their eyes communicated volumes.

At this rate, there would be no end.

They would collapse from exhaustion before any conclusion was reached.

After silently agreeing, the two turned their focus back on Jin Seong-un.

Suddenly, Baek Seol lunged forward with a thrust. Her form grew rough from the force, but the power it contained was greater than ever.

Jin Seong-un swung his iron sword and knocked it aside.

The moment their blades touched, Baek Seol withdrew without resistance, just as if she had expected it.

Through the opening, Baek Sang shot forward like an arrow.

The Great Cloud Heavy Sword.

Slow, but overwhelming in destructive power.

It was one of Wudang’s few domineering sword techniques.

Its only weakness was its slowness, but Baek Seol’s feint had bought enough time to erase that flaw completely.

The heavy sword descended on Jin Seong-un, radiating thick killing intent.

Jin Seong-un thought again how well the siblings matched as he extended his blade to meet it.

At that moment, Baek Seol, who seemed to be stepping aside, suddenly shifted her stance and unleashed a swift technique.

The Taiji Wind Sword.

It surged at him with fierce speed, as if a violent gust carried her blade forward.

Unconsciously, Jin Seong-un smiled faintly.

He had once heard from Oh Jeong-san that the Wudang Sect rarely had sword techniques of extremes like sheer swiftness or sheer heaviness.

After all, the essence of Wudang swordplay sought ultimate balance.

But these two, embodying opposing extremes, together created Taiji itself.

Their struggle to forge such harmony was palpable.

‘Very well.’

Thus, Jin Seong-un decided to accept their sincerity with all he had.

It was the least courtesy and duty demanded.

In that fleeting instant, Jin Seong-un shifted his momentum.

His plain iron sword suddenly flared with crimson flames.

The Fire Dragon Escape Sword.

A sword art of the Sword Immortal, and the perfect counter against Wudang’s style.

Just as he was about to clash head-on instead of dodging or deflecting—

“…”

Jin Seong-un felt an unpleasant sensation brush his nape. It was not from Baek Sang or Baek Seol.

Someone had entered the inn. This person’s aura was so twisted and unpleasant that it stirred blatant rejection within him.

Han Seong-chun was still inside the inn.

With that thought, Jin Seong-un withdrew his sword and caught both siblings’ blades barehanded.

“Huh?”

“Eh?”

The siblings looked dumbstruck.

This had been their trump card, their ultimate strike—yet it had been stopped so easily, so pointlessly. And not even with a sword, but bare hands. It was as if a child’s punch had been caught by an adult.

Jin Seong-un wore an apologetic look.

He felt as though he had carelessly trampled on budding growth.

“Ah. Forgive me. I think someone has arrived outside.”

With that, Jin Seong-un turned hurriedly.

Baek Sang and Baek Seol stared blankly at his back before clasping fists in salute.

Contrary to his worry, the siblings had instead gained new motivation.

“…We have learned much.”

“Had we not come to Yichang, arrogance might have taken root in us…”

Baek Sang even shuddered at the realization. Their growth had indeed been swift, and they had left the Seong-un Inn before with an oddly different mindset.

Now, having once again witnessed Jin Seong-un’s overwhelming might, they were able to rediscover humility.

Even as he felt baffled by their words behind him, Jin Seong-un stepped back into the inn.

The moment he opened the door, a stench hit him.

Not figuratively—an actual stench so foul it stung his nose.

Jin Seong-un flinched, which was rare for him, and searched for the source.

At the entrance stood a middle-aged woman, gazing boldly at him.

‘Even from this distance…’

Could it be a martial art that exuded stench?

Perhaps something like the Tang Clan’s poison arts.

As he pondered, the woman bared her teeth in a wide grin.

Contrary to her ragged appearance, her teeth were strikingly neat and white, making it even more unnerving.

“Wel… come.”

Jin Seong-un spoke with the composure of a veteran innkeeper of over ten years.

“Hmph.”

She arrogantly accepted his greeting and took a step forward. The stench doubled in intensity.

“Ugh…”

Jin Seong-un groaned softly and glanced at the entrance. Sima Hwi stood outside, not daring to enter, only watching.

‘So he brought her here.’

It was not only the foul stench.

Jin Seong-un felt from her one of the strongest auras he had ever encountered in the martial world.

That overwhelming stench, combined with the fact that she had come with the Sima Clan’s eldest son, made it clear—she had to be the Beggars’ Union’s Myeongsuk.

A primal revulsion welled inside him.

The inn had always disliked the Beggars’ Union.

The Hao Sect of the unorthodox faction at least had the philosophy of protecting innkeepers. But the Beggars’ Union, supposedly of the righteous sects, insisted on upholding their beggar’s philosophy, often pestering inns for handouts.

The problem was, since they were martial artists, their begging sometimes turned into threats.

The woman lingered a moment at a proper distance, observing, before speaking with certainty.

“Got you. Thief.”

Her eyes glinted.

Jin Seong-un looked at her in disbelief, as if asking what nonsense she was spouting.

Swoosh—!

The beggar from the Beggars’ Union suddenly charged straight at him—at full power.

“…!”

Jin Seong-un’s expression shifted in rare shock.

Not because of her incredible speed, the fierce energy in her hands, or the madness in her eyes.

But because the closer she came, the more unbearable the stench grew.

Feeling this as a life-or-death crisis, Jin Seong-un instinctively summoned crimson qi into his palm.